Home
by James5
Summary: Life goes on for Dean and Emma, but not back in civilization.
1. For As Long As We Both Shall Live

**"For As Long As We Both Shall Live"**

* * *

Many of her friends had grown up believing in fate — but Emma Robinson had always believed in _control_.

Fate had a way of converting people, though, and it appeared to be targeting Emma right now. Why else would she be stuck on this island for three long months? Why else would her attempts to get home continually fail? And why else would the flare she'd just fired — the very last one — somehow go unnoticed by the people in the helicopter?

Her jaw fell open as the vehicle faded from sight, a slew of thick clouds covering up its departure.

Dean held a palm up to block the sun, staring in the direction that the vehicle had gone. He eyed the scene with a look of nervous suspicion, the same one he'd worn when he'd found the skeleton.

By the time Emma turned to him, however, Dean's expression had changed. She saw nothing but a calm, contented stare, the one he used while eyeing the sunset everyday.

Emma's face became a mixture of anger and awe. She eyed Dean as though he was out of his mind.

Dean looked at her...then flinched in surprise. After a moment of silence, he began reaching for Emma's hand.

Emma pulled away, storming off toward the forest.

* * *

Dean stepped onto the shore and began his daily fishing duties. Around half an hour into his routine, he noticed that Emma had appeared as well.

She hadn't acknowledged him in any way. She'd simply walked up and gone about her business.

A few days had passed since the helicopter had left. Prior to that event, Emma had suspected that they'd never get off this island. Over the past hour, her opinion had changed: It was no longer a suspicion, it was an absolute certainty.

Emma cast a weary glance at her stony time slate, then crouched and added another mark to it. The wind blew her loose shirt across her face. She pushed it aside while looking down at the stone.

Dean watched his companion with a curious stare. She'd barely spoken since the helicopter had appeared, and all of his attempts at discussions had failed.

He leaned down with a sigh, gazing off into the distance. "The silent treatment's getting kind of old, Em."

She went on staring away at the slate, tallying up the number of days.

After a few seconds, Dean picked himself up. "Fine," he said, turning away from her. "You want privacy? You can have as much as you need." He paused while waiting for her reaction. The threat didn't seem to have any effect. Dean shrugged, swinging his spear about. "All right, well...guess I'll see you in a year or so. Maybe you'll feel like talking then."

Emma rolled her eyes, then sprung up and threw her carving rock down. "You are so, _frustrating_!"

Dean turned around and spread his arms. "You want to tell me why? Because I'm not real good at reading minds."

"We're stuck on this island."

"Yeah, I kind of noticed." He smiled.

"Well you could've fooled me."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Emma ran her hands over her face. She took a deep breath, then eyed Dean calmly. "You realize that we have no way of getting home, right?"

"I do," he replied, compassion creeping into his eyes. "And I'll tell you the same thing I said when we were stranded at sea: freaking out- -"

"Isn't going to make us any less screwed." Emma looked up at the sky. "I'm not asking you to freak out...I'm just asking you to care."

Dean squinted a little, clearly confused.

"Sometimes I honestly can't tell if we want the same thing," she said.

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about leaving this island. Going home." She looked him over. "Some days you act like you want to get rescued. Other days you act like you'd rather stay here. Which is it?"

Dean turned away, getting lost in his thoughts. His bare muscles bulged as he folded his arms.

Emma watched him as her hair danced about in the breeze.

A brief silence passed before he managed to answer. "I'm honestly not too sure anymore," he mumbled.

"Well I wish you'd just pick one and stick with it. All the inconsistency is what's frustrating me."

"_I'm_ inconsistent?" He chuckled. "What about you? I'm not the only one who likes it here sometimes. You've said so yourself."

Emma looked away, shaking her head in denial. She knew that Dean had a valid point, but she was too angry to admit it right now.

He motioned downward toward her slate. "So why are you still counting the days and weeks on that little rock of yours? Why do you care how long we've been on this island?"

"Because I'm not _content_ with all of this — like you are. I can't _stand_ the thought of this being my life now."

Dean's grin froze on his face, then began to fade little by little. He fell quiet, and looked away.

"What?" she asked, spreading her arms a bit.

"Nothing. It's just..." His head sagged, and his voice softened. "I guess it makes me a little sad to know that you feel that way."

Emma's lips parted a tad. She immediately realized that Dean wasn't referring to the fact that they were stuck on an island. He was referring to the relationship that they'd _built_ on the island.

Dean began walking off without a word.

"Dean..." she called. Emma rushed out in front of him and held his wrists. "Wait a minute. I didn't mean it like that." She pulled Dean close and wrapped her arms around him. "I'm sorry," she said.

Dean closed his eyes, hugging her back.

After a few seconds, Emma let her eyes drift closed as well. "Sorry for losing it like that. It's just...I don't know...sometimes it seems like you don't care whether we make it home, or whether we die here."

Dean stared out at the water. "Maybe we define the word _home_ differently, Em."

Emma opened her eyes, feeling a tad confused. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying you've got it all wrong. I don't want to die here, I want to live here — with you."

* * *

Emma and Dean removed their clothes and stepped into the lagoon, quietly bobbing face to face.

Dean sighed, and let his gaze wander off. "This is going to sound really weird...but when we first got here, I sort of wondered if life was punishing me or something."

Emma's eyes narrowed in slow confusion. "Why?"

"I used to spend so much time acting like I could care less about everything around me..." Dean frowned. "And I can see now that I took a lot for granted."

Emma found herself quite surprised by his words. For a good deal of their time on the island, Dean had kept these emotions well-hidden, pretending to be indifferent to the world they'd left behind.

"But now I think it's the other way around. I don't view any of this as a punishment, I view it as a gift."

Emma squinted a little. "Why is that?" she asked softly.

"Because being here, being with you...I feel more alive now than I did back in the city." Dean stared into Emma's gentle, comforting gaze. A flutter of excitement filled his heart, and a calm grin spread across his face. "I don't know if any of this was 'meant' to happen. All I know is I've been given a simple, quiet life with the girl I...I..." Dean paused, his stare freezing on her.

Emma's mouth fell open, and her eyes widened a bit. For a second, it sounded like Dean was about to confirm something she'd grown suspicious of lately.

As his heart sped up, and his cheeks grew red, Dean found himself looking off to the side. "Anyway..." he mumbled, clearing his throat.

Much to Emma's dismay, Dean had fallen silent. More than anything right now, she wanted him to finish saying what he was about to say. At the same time, however, she didn't want to pressure Dean into doing anything he wasn't ready for.

And for a moment, she paused to wonder what that said about her own feelings for him.

Emma looked down at the water, and changed the subject. "We never talk much about your dad."

Dean closed his eyes, then opened them slowly, keeping his gaze away from hers.

"Sorry," she said. "Sorry for bringing that up."

"It's okay," he whispered. "I just feel like talking about him will make me miss him more."

She ran a hand along his face. "We don't have to then. I don't want to make you sad."

"I'm not," he said, looking into her eyes. "As long as we're here, I'll always miss my family, and you'll always miss yours. But whenever I start getting too sad about the past...I kind of tell myself to remember the present." He smiled a little. "It doesn't make all the sadness just disappear, but it does make me feel better again."

She drifted in closer to him. "The _present_..." Emma pondered that word while watching specks of sunlight glisten along the surface. "I used to spend so much time planning for the future, that I kind of forgot to live in the present."

He nodded, thinking back to some of their previous discussions.

"But things are different here. I've had to slow down and embrace the moment."

Dean made a playful grin. "I guess getting stuck on an island will make that happen."

Emma giggled. "Not just because of that...but because of you. Because of us."

Dean wrapped his arms around Emma's shoulders, running a few fingers through her long damp hair. Another slow smile crept across his face.

Emma met his grin with one of her own. Then she looked into the water, and her joy began to fade.

"What's wrong?"

Emma gazed down at her calm reflection, recognizing one of her guilty little stares. "You're not the only one who took things for granted back home. I think I undervalued something as well."

Dean drew back in mock amazement. "What was that?"

She hesitated before looking up at him. "Love," she mumbled. "My parents' love." Emma glanced off and shook her head a little. "Parents are parents. They get on your nerves for various reasons. Sometimes they're super strict and you think they're being too mean...or they're super affectionate and you think they're being too _nice_."

Dean chuckled.

"I guess the bottom line is that your parents love you. They always have, and they always will. Mine told me they loved me all the time...and I used to just smile, and hug them back..." She paused while feeling a tear well up. "But after a while, I think I stopped appreciating what they meant when they said it."

Dean watched her closely, letting her know he was listening.

"Sometimes it's easy to forget what 'I love you' means. It means that people value who you are, and what you bring into their lives." She looked out toward the horizon. "And it means that they'd miss you, if you disappeared or something."

Dean wiped a tear from Emma's face. After holding quiet for about a minute, he calmly spoke up. "I never met your parents, Em, but I'm pretty sure that they knew you didn't take them for granted."

Emma took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled. She buried her head in his chest, and made a weak little grin. "Thanks for saying that," she muttered. And then Dean's statement began sinking in. "You're talking in the past tense." She paused. "You really think we're going to be here a while."

Dean sighed, licking his lips. "I don't know how long we're going to be here," he said, "but if I have to be stuck on this island with anyone, then I'm definitely glad to be stuck here with you."

* * *

Night had fallen across the area, and a bright moon was shining over the island.

Emma lay awake in Dean's strong arms, brushing a finger along his sleeping face. Whenever she felt anxious or discontent, it seemed that Dean always managed to cheer her up.

Amidst his efforts, as well as her own, she could feel something in her beginning to change. Her outbursts of panic were becoming less frequent these days.

She wasn't exactly sure what any of this meant.

Before long, however, she began to recall her earlier words — the ones she'd used while defining a certain emotion. "Dean," she whispered, so as not to wake him up.

Just as she'd hoped, he gave no response.

Her heart suddenly threatened to pound out of her chest. "I just want to say...that I value who you are, and what you bring into my life." Emma's eyes watered as she watched him a moment. Then she turned away, and snuggled under their cover.

Seconds later, she felt Dean's arm pulling her close again.

"I love you too, Emma," he said.

Emma's face lit up, glowing brighter than the stars.

Moments afterward, she closed her eyes and cuddled against him, and both of them drifted off to sleep.

* * *

**Home**


	2. My One And Only

**"My One And Only"**

* * *

Emma sprawled out on the beach and looked up at the clouds. It had been three years now since she and Dean had arrived. If fate was real, then apparently it wanted her to live her life on this island.

She recalled a humourous moment from their first night here, when she couldn't tell if Dean was being mean or nice. These days, she could say the same thing about fate itself.

She wasn't uncomfortable on this island — quite the contrary in fact. It was almost like this place had a mind of its own, doing its best to comfort its queen. Almost everyday, no matter where she awakened, sunlight poured down to soothe her skin. Waves rushed out to massage her feet. Flowers grew in all her favorite places.

There was a time when she'd refused to accept living here, but Emma knew this could only go on for so long. Either she could be a child and keep throwing tantrums, or she could be a young woman and come to terms with reality.

The search for her and Dean had clearly ended years ago; it was obvious that this was her home now.

Rather than dwelling on the negatives, she focused on the positives. Instead of mourning what she'd lost, she embraced what she had.

Of course, the things that she'd _lost_ still weighed heavily on her mind. Sometimes she couldn't help but long for a few trinkets from her past. Yet with almost every item that she found herself missing, she could think of a good reason _not_ to have it as well.

Emma thought about her old Maybelline collection, then brushed a hand over her smooth, dry cheeks. Back in the city, she'd liked drenching her face with assorted cosmetics, then parading around like one of her famous idols. But while others had called her beautiful while she was wearing makeup, Dean called her beautiful without any.

Emma looked down at her perpetually bare feet, knowing that she'd never get to wear any designer shoes again. The prospect of this was simply mind-blowing, and had required a long and valiant effort of acceptance on her part. Eventually, however, she'd managed to look on the bright side of things: high heels were a pain to walk in anyway.

She paused to think back on her favorite candy, recalling how tangy and tasty it was. Living without that wasn't going to be fun. On the upside, though, she'd been eating a lot of healthy fruit that she'd neglected before, and most of it tasted pretty sweet as well.

Finally, Emma recalled her fondness for writing text messages all day. It had always been fun to send those out to her friends. In time, however, it dawned on her that she'd rarely _bonded_ with her friends on the level that they'd wanted. One reason was due to their many differences, the other revolved around their habit of texting each other. Besides their brief interactions at school, their primary means of communicating was through social media.

While text messaging had been short and sweet, her conversations with Dean were long and intimate. It wasn't that a friend meant any less than a lover, but talking certainly seemed to mean more than texting. It had made Dean her friend, and her lover as well.

Emma chuckled, and closed her eyes. She certainly didn't have everything that she wanted, but she did seem to have everything that she needed — food, water, comfort, and love.

Whenever she felt nostalgic or anxious or sad, one everlasting truth helped her get through the day: Dean loved her.

That was all she needed to know.

* * *

Dean McMullen couldn't believe his eyes. It was surprising enough to find a pouch near the mountain — nestled in the dirt for years or decades — but what he saw inside was simply amazing.

Amidst an old-looking watch and an ancient brown coin, Dean found a pair of gleaming gold rings.

After taking a moment to let the sight sink in, he turned and cast his stare toward a distant beach.


	3. Matrimony

**"Matrimony"**

* * *

Dean sat a number of things down on a small wooden tray: chopped fruit, grilled fish, cooked vegetables, and a bottle of water. After pausing to take a deep breath, he placed a golden ring right down in the center, then covered it up with a coconut shell.

He smiled while admiring his handiwork. Emma was in for quite a surprise today.

The plan was simple: lure her with the food, let her spot the ring, then wait for her to come running into his arms. It was the best proposal that he could think of.

Dean placed the tray in Emma's favorite spot on the beach, then snuck off so that she could find it alone. He took a place in the woods and sprawled out on his back, tucking his hands behind his head.

Around 10 minutes later, Emma's voice rang out. "Dean!" she yelled, clearly excited.

Dean gritted his teeth amidst a huge smile, then sprung to his feet and answered her call. "Yeah?"

Emma stepped forth with a familiar expression, narrowing her eyes and wriggling her nose with a grin. "You are the sweetest, most romantic guy there is."

Dean opened his arms, inviting her forward.

"I appreciate you making me lunch," she said. "But I already ate about 20 minutes ago...so I'm afraid I haven't touched a thing on that tray."

Dean's jaw dropped.

"I know." She giggled, then shrugged a tad. "We'll just turn that lunch into dinner, all right?" Emma walked over and kissed his cheek, then gave Dean a quick pat on the shoulder. "I'm heading to the lagoon."

Dean became a statue in the forest for a moment. After letting out a quiet sigh, he headed down to the beach to retrieve the tray.

* * *

It had taken him about half a day, but Dean had finally collected Emma's favorite flowers.

After stringing together a loose bouquet, he nestled the ring right down in its center. When Emma leaned her head to inhale the scent, the ring would be staring back at her.

The sound of footsteps caught his attention. Dean spun around and hid the flowers from sight.

Emma paused, looking him over with a smirk. "What are you hiding there?"

Dean licked his lips, feeling his insides tingle. His breathing grew heavier all of a sudden. "Em..." he muttered.

She leaned her head to the side, lifting an eyebrow. "Yes?"

Dean exhaled with a smile. "This is for you."

Emma's face brightened as she saw the bouquet. "Dean," she said. "They're so beautiful. Thank you." She held the stems in one hand, and hugged Dean with the other.

He returned the affection, then separated from her.

Emma began leaning down to smell the flowers...

Dean tensed, feeling his excitement rising.

Just as Emma was about to notice the ring, a ray of sunlight got in her face. She winced and hid her eyes in response, keeping them closed as she enjoyed the scent. "Mmm..." she moaned.

Dean frowned in surprise.

Emma lifted her head and looked over at Dean. "You know what? I'm going to put these in that jar we found." After setting the flowers in a small jar of water, she turned and gave Dean another kiss on the cheek. "Come on," she said. "Let's go for a swim." Emma pulled off her shirt and skipped down toward the beach.

Dean eyed the jar with a dumbfounded gaze. "Be right there."

* * *

Shortly after their swim had ended, Dean managed to get a moment alone. He picked up Emma's discarded shirt, and snuck the ring into one of her pockets. Then he turned around and shouted out toward the beach. "Hey. It's wash day, isn't it?"

"Yeah," she called back.

Dean shrugged. "We might as well go do our clothes then."

She nodded. "All right. I'll be right there."

When they reached the water minutes later, Dean offered Emma some friendly advice. "Don't forget to check your pockets." He smiled.

"It's okay. I haven't put anything in them." Emma began drawing her shirt beneath the surface.

Dean stiffened in fright. "No, Emma, wait." He rushed over and took the garment.

"What's wrong?" She eyed him peculiarly.

"Em..." He shook his head, then stood up straight.

Emma held quiet, rising as well.

"I've been trying to surprise you." He blushed.

"Surprise me with what?"

Dean secured the ring in a closed palm, then took a moment to face the woman before him. As he studied Emma's familiar features — her calm stare, her inviting smile, all of the things that made Emma, Emma — Dean knew without a doubt that he was facing his destiny.

Emma brushed her hair back with a sensitive look.

"When I was a little kid," Dean said, "I always saw those 'romantic' movie proposals now and then. The ones with a guy getting down on one knee, and making this fancy speech about his love for a girl." Dean looked away with a shy chuckle. "All of it seemed so sappy back then, and I vowed that I'd never be like those guys I saw." He opened his hand. "But I was wrong."

Her eyes widened as she saw the ring.

Dean bent his knee and knelt before Emma, giving her a playful smile. "I'm going to get all cheesy now. Bear with me if you've got a minute."

Emma giggled, feeling a tear well up.

"Emmaline Robinson, you awakened something within me that I'd forgotten was there. I know that we've both lost a lot, but we've gained a lot as well. These past three years have been some of the best of my life, and I want to say the same thing about the ones ahead. We don't have a chapel, and we don't need one. We live in our own society now." Dean paused, then said the next words with more sincerity than he'd ever felt in his life. "What I'm trying to say is that I love you...in ways that I've never loved anyone before." His voice softened. "Will you marry me?"

Emma eased her hands around Dean's cheeks, nodding as a tear rolled down her face. "Yes."

* * *

Stars were shining over the island. A small fire was casting an orange hue about.

Emma stood before Dean, holding her hands in his. Her eyes gleamed with a soft, playful affection, as though she was honored that he loved her enough to propose. From what she'd heard, she was far from the only bride to ever feel this way.

Dean reached over to a small wooden stand, then placed the ring he'd retrieved on Emma's finger. He thought about his father, and then about his mom, mentally sending his love to both of them. "Do you, Emma, take me as your husband?"

Her smile brightened, and she took a deep breath. "I do," she said, brushing a hand along his face. Emma placed the other ring on Dean's finger, then felt a little flutter of excitement in her chest. This wasn't the wedding day that she'd envisioned as a girl, but any wedding to Dean was good enough for her. She wished that her family could be here to see it, knowing that they missed her as much as she missed them. Ultimately, however, Emma hoped that her family had found happiness again, because she'd definitely managed to find some of her own. "Do you, Dean, take me as your wife?"

Dean looked at Emma as though she was the most amazing sight in the world right now. "I do."

They brought all of their hands together again.

"Then I guess there's only one thing left to say..." Emma said.

Dean nodded, and the two of them began speaking in unison. "From this day forth, we are husband and wife."

Emma stirred with a giddy smile.

Dean stared back, returning her affection.

"You can kiss your bride now," she said.

Dean and Emma leaned toward each other, and shared the longest, most loving kiss of their lives.


	4. Commitment

**"Commitment"**

* * *

Emma lay awake with her back to Dean's chest, eyeing her ring with a calm smile. She closed her eyes, wrapping her left hand around his. "Dean?" she whispered.

"Yeah?" He grinned at her ever-curious tone.

"What are you thinking about?"

Dean let his stare drift toward the sky. "For the first time in a while, I kind of wish that we could leave."

Emma's eyes opened, and she froze in shock. She'd never expected Dean to say anything like that. He'd seemed so content here for the past three years.

He frowned a little. "I mean...I kind of do, and I kind of don't."

Emma squinted in confusion.

"There are so many places that I'd love to visit on our honeymoon."

Her lips parted as his explanation sank in. Then she lifted an eyebrow, and spoke teasingly. "What kinds of places did you have in mind?"

Dean chuckled, easing into his usual laid-back demeanor. "How about London, England on a foggy morning? Or an amusement park with a big water slide? Or maybe a tower in Paris, when the stars are shining."

Emma nodded. "Sounds like fun." She paused while recalling his earlier words. "You said that a part of you wouldn't want to leave, though. Why?"

Dean fell silent, and his voice began to lower. "Sometimes I wonder if you could've fallen in love with me someplace else."

Emma quieted, holding her calm eyes on the fire.

"I've also wondered what would happen if we left the island. I know it sounds stupid, but at some point, I started to think that losing this life would mean losing you too...and maybe I never entirely got over that fear."

Emma flashed a sad frown while absorbing his words. Dean's anxiety came as an unpleasant surprise. She rolled over, eyeing him with a grin. Her bare breasts were nuzzled against Dean's bare chest, and Emma had come to adore this feeling through the years. "Our relationship isn't about _where_ we are, it's about who we are." She placed a quick kiss on his lips. "If you and I went back to civilization tomorrow...I'd marry you all over again, Mr. McMullen."

Dean's lips curled into a slow smile.

As Emma lowered her face just above his, the two began doing one of their favorite things: nuzzling their noses together for a while.

* * *

The next morning, the newlyweds visited a perch above a wild shore. After finding a smooth spot on the rocky surface, the couple pictured themselves in London while having breakfast in the fog.

Later in the day, they walked to a tall, wet slope overlooking a lagoon. They held each other close while sliding toward the water, then sailed through the air before making a splash.

Once night had fallen, Dean and Emma scaled the highest hill they knew of. The pair sat side by side while looking out at the stars.

Emma flexed her fingers, eyeing her ring once more. Then she smiled at Dean, wrapping an arm around his waist.


	5. Truth or Dare

**"Truth or Dare"**

* * *

Dean took Emma's hand and helped her up a brown slope. The two were on a brief expedition that was nearing its end. A lush green forest lay sprawled out before them, filled with the berries that they'd come to find. Just as they were about to begin picking fruit, a rumble of thunder caught their attention, and a heavy downpour followed moments later.

Dean and Emma sprinted into a cave. They sat across from each other while looking out at the rain.

Emma shook her damp hair and began wringing out her shirt. "You'd think we'd know how to predict the weather by now."

Dean chuckled at Emma's whiny little voice. And then his face brightened with a sudden excitement. "Truth or Dare?" he offered.

She rolled her eyes.

"Come on. Why not?"

Emma sighed, shaking her head. She knew that Dean could be quite persistent when in a playful mood. "Okay. Truth."

He spread his arms. "Why not a dare?"

"Because I know you'll just ask me to run out there or something."

He laughed again, and began thinking of a question. "All right..." He eyed her closely. "Let's talk truth. You're always going on about how I cheer you up, and how I comfort you..."

She made a quick, appreciative nod.

"But the fact is, you've been doing the same thing for me ever since we got to this island."

Emma smiled at Dean's sweet words.

"And I can tell I'm not the only person who you've ever done that for," he said. "I want to know who else you've taken care of. Back in civilization, who was the person who you looked out for most?"

She slowly lifted her gaze to the roof. "My little sister." Emma closed her eyes for a second. "One time, I even had to protect her from myself."

Dean squinted, wondering what that meant. Just before he could ask, Emma spoke up.

"Anyway, I believe it's my turn now." She arched her knees and wrapped her hands around them. "Truth or dare?"

A flash of lightning glowed across the grounds. "Truth," he mumbled.

"What kind of career would you have if we weren't here right now?"

Dean stretched his legs out and looked down at the dirt. "Before we left for the trip, I told my dad that I might come to work in his field. It sort of seemed like a way of reconnecting with him."

Emma watched Dean with sensitivity in her eyes. She always liked hearing stories about Jack.

Dean looked up and lifted his eyebrows. "My turn," he said. "Truth or dare?"

Emma was interrupted by a crack of thunder. She looked outward as the sound of rain grew louder. "Truth," she replied.

Dean recalled their talk about Emma's good will — about how she'd spread it among him and others. He shook his head while smiling at her. "You've got this super kind heart inside of you, Em. You're real good at making someone feel loved...but have you ever told anyone that you _hated_ them instead?" Dean couldn't help but chuckle at the thought. The very idea sounded absurd.

Emma looked away, and her gaze began to darken.

Dean's smile froze, then slowly melted. He was waiting for a _no_, but it never came.

Emma brushed back a lock of her hair. "Around two years before you and I got here...I found out that my mom was cheating on my dad."

Dean's face stirred in surprise. He interlocked his fingers, and leaned forward a little.

"So I threatened to tell my dad about the affair. Then my mom got scared and said that I'd be breaking up our family." Emma eyed the ground with a stony stare. "I've never been as angry at anyone as I was at her that day. I couldn't believe she had the nerve to say that to me — seeing as she was the one doing the actual cheating." She closed her eyes a moment, then opened them again. "She tried reaching for me, and I pulled away. Then I told her something that she'll probably never forget." Emma's lips trembled a little. "I said 'I hate my life, I hate that guy you're with...and I hate you.' "

Dean watched her with a look of unease. He knew that Emma had her virtues, but she also had a temper. However, it was hard to imagine her saying something like that.

"She looked sadder in that moment than I'd ever seen her before." Emma paused, letting out a deep breath. "Then I ran home, and cried in my room. Not the sad kind of tears, but the angry ones, you know? I just hugged a pillow and stared a hole in the wall." She recalled that it had been raining on that day as well. "My mom ended things with the other guy the next day. After that, I figured she'd keep her distance from me." Emma raised an eyebrow. "Instead, she got warm and affectionate all the time, hugging me and saying how much I meant to her."

Dean nodded, smiling a little.

"She said that she was sorry for putting me through what she had, and that she didn't want to be the kind of person I hated." Emma quieted as a wave of shame swept through her. "But I was still angry, so I wouldn't respond at first. I kind of shut her out, even when I didn't really want to."

Dean had almost never seen Emma in a spiteful state, save for when she'd given him the silent treatment. Emma was a pleasant, easy-going person. It simply wasn't in her nature to hold a grudge.

She looked down at her twiddling fingers. "Around six months later...we connected again. We spoke more openly, we shared a few jokes, and she was the first person there when I needed someone to talk to." Emma found herself fighting back tears. "At that point, I started returning her hugs, and everything pretty much went back to normal." She made a small frown while staring downward. "I just wish I'd told her I loved her as much as she said it to me."

Dean reached over and held her hand. "She knew, Em. You know that she knew."

Emma licked her lips, nodding to herself. Another flash of lightning spread across her face. After a few seconds, she looked up at Dean and made a small grin. "So," she whispered. "Truth or dare?"

Dean rolled his shoulders. "Truth," he muttered.

She began to watch him very steadily. "Did you love any girls before you met me?" Emma recalled a similar question she'd asked long ago.

"No," Dean said, his response coming instantly.

Emma flinched. "That was quick," she chuckled.

"It's not something I need to think about. I'm looking at my first and only love right now."

Her eyes watered, and she closed her grip around his. Their rings sparkled as they brought all of their hands together.

* * *

Once the storm had finally passed, the pair collected their fruit and headed back to the beach, making their return just before nightfall.

The two sat by a fire while cooking the rest of their dinner. "Hey," Emma said. "Truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"What do you think we should do for our wedding anniversary next year?"

Dean shrugged. "Anything that doesn't involve getting caught in the rain."

Emma giggled, nuzzling against him.


	6. Progress

**"Progress"**

* * *

Emma awakened to the sound of her name. Her weary eyes opened slowly at first...then became two white saucers in the dark of night.

Emma's mother stood a fair distance away, sporting a ragged gray dress that frolicked in the wind.

Emma used both hands to prop herself off the ground, staring in awe before she rose to her feet.

After nearly a minute of silence had passed, Emma's eyebrows began to lower. Her lips tightened, her jaw shook, and she charged across the sand in quiet fury. She brought her mom down with a quick tackle, wrestling her on the ground as their struggle began.

* * *

Emma awakened in reality with a violent shake, rising with a power that surprised even Dean. She gasped while clutching the cover to her chest, shoulders rising with each quick breath.

"Em?" Dean said, sitting up beside her.

Emma closed her eyes, then held a hand to her face. This was the third night that she'd dreamed of seeing Barbara again, and not one of their reunions had been the least bit pleasant.

"What's wrong?" he asked, running a hand along her back.

Emma wanted the answer to that question herself. What, exactly, was triggering these visions?

Her mind drifted back to the discussion in the cave, when she recalled the painful details of her mother's affair. She knew that talking about pain was supposed to make things better, but in this case, it appeared to have made things worse.

For reasons she couldn't entirely understand, she seemed to be angry at her mother all over again.

Dean pulled her close and whispered into her ear. "Did you have the dream?"

Emma nodded, still covering her face.

Dean wrapped both arms around her chest, embracing the girl who'd taught him several things about love. Among the many lessons and reminders, one had stood out: Love had an unpleasant side as well — when the person you loved hurt, then you did too.

Emma sighed in his arms, letting the world slip away. After basking in Dean's warmth for several moments, she willed herself to visit a colder place.

Emma began thinking about the affair again. She recalled all the complications it had created in her family. Forgiving her mom had been challenging enough — and keeping her secret was just as hard. It felt like she was lying to her dad about something, and Emma resented having to feel that way.

She'd never entirely let go of that anger, she'd simply buried it as best she could.

And now it was rising to the surface again.

Emma glanced at Dean, then eased onto her back. "Let's just lay back down," she whispered.

"Em..."

She reached out and stroked his hand. "You're here for me in any way that I need you, right?"

He slowly nodded.

Emma's eyes softened with vulnerability. "I just need you to hold me right now."

Dean sprawled out on their mat of leaves, wrapping an arm around Emma's waist.

Emma took a deep breath, then looked up at the stars.

* * *

Emma heard the sound of nearby footsteps — too soft and gentle to belong to Dean. She spun around, freezing where she stood.

Barbara watched her daughter with a soothing stare, gently looking her up and down. "I love you, Emma." She paused, waiting for Emma's response.

Emma eyed the woman in hesitation, feeling oddly conflicted about her own feelings.

Barbara smiled. "After the affair, you never could say 'I love you' to me as much as I said it to you. At first, you simply shut me out. Then you mostly just smiled, and hugged me back."

Emma closed her eyes, letting her head sag.

"Your sister got so jealous of the affection that I kept giving you. And I got so happy when you started returning it." Barbara began to frown. "And now you hate me all over again."

* * *

Emma awakened with a tense fidget, raising a hand to block the sun.

Dean approached from a distance with a tray of food. "She's awake," he called, flashing a playful smile. "Be a good girl and I'll bring you lunch in bed."

Emma sprung to her feet and began striding away.

Dean paused upon noting the look in her eyes. By now, it was easy to tell when Emma had a purpose. "Emma, wait. What are you doing?"

"I'm going to the desert."

Dean tensed as the word sunk in. It was a nickname they used for the hottest area on the island. "Why?"

"That's where I keep seeing her in my dreams."

He put the tray down and began chasing after her. "You can't go there without water. Not at this time of year. It's too- -" His words trailed off as he tripped to the ground and sprained his leg.

Unaware of Dean's fall, Emma moved steadily ahead on the path before her.

* * *

Sweat poured down Emma's face. Her knees shook, and her head sagged.

While trudging through the hot and sandy plains, she began to see a number of mysterious sights: her Maybelline collection, her favorite candy, a couple of old dresses, and her trusty cell phone.

Emma's eyes fluttered closed, and she slowly collapsed, drifting off into her latest dream.

Within moments, Barbara had appeared in her vision again.

"Mom?"

The other woman slowly nodded, standing across from her in the sand.

Emma closed the distance between them. After a moment of pause, she gently held her mother's hands.

Barbara smiled gratefully.

"I don't quite get what's going on." Emma looked a little confused. "Why have I been seeing you so often lately?"

Barbara made a cute little smile, leaning her head off to the side. "You're a new wife, Emma. Like it or not, that means you've been comparing yourself to me."

After pausing to let those words sink in, Emma nodded, then looked away. "I guess that's got me remembering your mistake. Maybe that's why I became angry about it again."

Barbara turned her head with a sad expression.

"But I don't hate you," Emma said firmly. "I didn't hate you in the past, and I don't hate you in the present."

Barbara grinned, her gaze softening with affection.

A deep blush swept over Emma's face. She stroked her mom's hands, then looked into her eyes. "I know that we'll always miss each other, but I honestly hope that you, Dad and Stacey are happy right now."

She nodded again. "In your heart, I think you sense that we are. And from what I can tell, it appears that you're happy as well."

Emma looked off with a thoughtful stare, eyeing the distant sights that comprised the island. After a brief pause, she spoke up once more. "Dean does make me happy," she admitted with a grin. "This simply isn't the kind of happiness that I expected to have."

Barbara eyed her in fascination. "Tell me a little about the life you had planned."

"You already know about that."

"Perhaps I do, but tell me again."

Emma's gaze drifted upward. "After high school, I would've headed off to college for several years — about the same amount of time that I've been gone now. And after _that_...I would've headed off to go someplace else..." she paused, "in order to make a home of my own."

Barbara smiled again. "Looks like you're in the process of doing that now," she muttered. "I know that things haven't played out the way we would've preferred...but I want to say that I'm proud of you, Em. I'm proud of the strength you've shown, the love you've found, and the woman you've become. You summoned your courage to face the life you have now. You helped Dean find his heart again. And you've grown more mature and resourceful than ever."

Emma's face became full of affection. She'd just heard so many things that she'd been wanting to hear.

"But you have to go back to Dean now, Emma. He still needs you. He always has, and he always will."

Emma blushed while thinking of the guy she loved. Then she turned her attention back to her mother. After studying the woman for a quiet moment, her lips pulled into a warm smile. "I love you, Mom."

Barbara's eyes filled with tears. "I love you too, Emma."

The two pulled each other close, and shared a long hug.

* * *

A bright sky was waiting as her eyes fluttered open.

"Emma!" Dean called out from a distance.

She turned her head to see him running across the sand.

Upon reaching her, Dean lifted Emma's head onto his lap, then raised a bottle of water to her lips. After Emma had taken a few long gulps, the two stood and began heading back to the beach.

* * *

Dean cuddled Emma beneath their cover. "I know that you've been trying to sort things out, but please don't ever do that to me again," he said.

"I won't," she assured him, running a hand across his face.

He pulled her closer, placing a kiss on her lips. "So _did_ you find what you were looking for?"

Emma turned her gaze to the sky, feeling incredibly grateful for the dreams that she'd had. "I finally made peace with a certain part of my past." She stroked Dean's hand. "And that's made me all the more eager to live in the present."


	7. Catching Up

**"Catching Up"**

* * *

Dean awakened in a sunlit field, vision blurry as he rose with a grunt. Tall blades of grass swayed quietly around him, forming a deep green ocean that reached up to his knees. Upon adjusting his shirt and glancing off to his left, he spotted the last person he'd ever expected to see. "Dad?" Dean blinked, squinting as he stared.

Jack McMullen wore a fascinated smile, hands rising to his hips as he looked Dean over. His loose shirt and khakis wavered in the wind.

Dean looked around, then faced Jack once more. "I've got to be dreaming."

"Something like that." Jack let out a soft chuckle.

Dean hesitated, then closed the distance between them, pulling his dad into a long, deep hug.

Jack ran a hand along Dean's back, then separated and looked his son in the eye. "So...tell me a little about Emma."

A hint of surprise appeared on Dean's face. He'd often wondered how a reunion would play out, seeing as he hadn't always made things easy on Jack.

But sure enough, in true Jack form, the first thing on his mind was Dean's happiness.

"Is she anything like your mom?"

After pausing to admire his dad for a second, Dean brushed a hand across the back of his head. "Actually, I'd say they're different in some notable ways."

"How so?" Jack wondered. "Give me a few examples."

Dean stroked his chin. "Well...Mom was cool and collected during a moment of panic. _Emma_ can be a little testy in one."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Sounds like you're putting it mildly, kid."

The younger man laughed, shrugging his shoulders.

"What else can you tell me?"

His gaze wandered. "Mom would comfort people by being playful...but Emma does it by getting quiet and serious. She listens to what's wrong, then tries to make things right."

Jack nodded as Dean went on. "What about when it's the other way around, and you're the one listening to her?"

Dean paused to consider the question. "Emma's pretty open about what she feels inside. She notes changes, she raises questions, and she tries making progress based on what she's experienced."

Jack looked intrigued by all that he'd heard.

Dean felt a familiar warmth stirring within him. "I'm definitely glad that Emma is who she is. She and Mom don't have all that much in common, but you and I fell in love with two great women." He smiled. "Emma helped me feel more alive than I'd felt before meeting her."

Upon hearing that, Jack began eyeing Dean with a bittersweet smile. "I'm certainly glad that you've found _someone_ you can bond with, son."

Dean froze as Jack's statement sank in. He detected a hint of envy in his father's tone. "Listen. Dad..." Dean shyly looked away. "I made a mistake after Mom died. I shut a lot of people out — including you."

Jack shook his head. "You don't have to say that."

"I actually do. Look, I hope you know that none of that was your fault." He lowered his gaze, and his voice. "You're a great father."

Jack's face softened in appreciation, and his lips rose in a modest grin.

"I'd tell you that for real if I could right now...but I guess that this is as close as I'm going to come." Dean folded his arms, and fell briefly quiet. "I know I acted like I didn't care about anyone or anything half the time, but those weren't my 'real feelings' — for lack of a less cheesy term."

Jack laughed and began stepping forward. "Deep down, I think you know that I was aware of your 'real feelings.' You certainly dropped a hint when you talked about coming to work with me."

"You think that would've been any fun?"

He placed a hand on Dean's shoulder. "With you and me teaming up, I know it would've."

Dean let himself smile, then looked up at his dad.

The elder man fell silent, eyeing Dean proudly. "Anyway, son, it's about time for me to go now."

"Why?"

"Because someone's coming for you right this moment — someone else who loves you a lot." Jack extended an arm and shook Dean's hand. "It seems I owe her a good deal of gratitude, and if I can't voice it in this life, then I will in the next." Jack quieted, then squeezed Dean's palm again. "Take care, Dean. Always."

"You too, Dad," Dean whispered. "You too."

* * *

"Dean?" The voice paused. "_Dean_..."

As his eyes fluttered open, Dean saw the silhouette of a familiar figure kneeling over him in the field. Seconds later, Emma's features became clear as she blocked out the sun.

A relieved breath escaped her mouth. "You okay?" she asked.

He slowly nodded as his surroundings sank in.

"See? I told you not to try mixing all those berries into that little juice of yours." She rolled her eyes and laughed. "You started walking around like you were half-drunk or something."

Dean groaned, pulling himself up.

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah," he said, taking her hand as she helped him rise. "I'm actually feeling just fine now."

* * *

Emma sat beside Dean near the fire, listening as he told her the end of his story. "It's amazing that we've both had dreams like that lately," she said.

"I know. I mean, I've dreamed of my dad before, but I never really got to talk to him the way I did this time."

Emma leaned against him, flashing one of her calm, inviting smiles. "I'm glad."

Dean hugged her back, then looked up at the sky. "Me too."


	8. The Raft

**"The Raft"**

* * *

Dean rushed to keep up as Emma led him through the woods. He'd rarely seen her so energized. Upon spotting the source of her excitement, however, he wasn't sure whether to be thrilled himself.

A number of old, splintered logs were laying scattered in a creek. Waves of mist hovered over the scene.

Emma turned around with a hopeful stare. "That rope we found. Do you still have it?"

Dean studied the logs, then slowly nodded. "Yeah..." he muttered. "I think so."

She hopped in place, then wrapped her arms around him. "I can't believe it. We can make a raft."

Dean lifted an eyebrow. "You've got to be kidding me. With those things?"

"Why not?"

He shook his head. "Do you think it's even safe to touch them? I mean, they might be crawling with something infectious."

Emma's face twisted into a cute little frown. "It doesn't look that way. But we can wrap our hands in some vines or leaves, and put some covering on the raft as well."

"All right. Let's say we _can_ build this thing. What then?"

Emma turned away and fell silent for a moment. "I honestly don't know yet," she admitted with a smile. "I guess I'm still working on that part."

Dean chuckled, spreading his arms. "Where exactly are we supposed to go?"

Emma placed her hands on her hips. "All right. Let's review our options."

"Yes. Let's do that."

"We obviously can't reach Trinidad."

"Or America."

"Or anyplace else on a raft. I wouldn't even know which direction to paddle." She paused. "But if we're lucky..." Emma quieted while considering her next words.

"If we're lucky..." he repeated.

A hint of doubt entered her tone. "Well, we might run across a boat or something."

Dean flinched, eyeing her in confusion.

She glanced away with an awkward frown.

"Em, we haven't seen anything like that in three years. No boats, no planes, no helicopters, nothing." He looked around with a sullen gaze. "It's like we're in some uncharted area that the rest of the world doesn't care about."

"I know that our chances are slim..." She leaned forth, eyeing him with affection. "But we've got to try, don't we?"

Dean went quiet while watching the logs.

"Don't we?"

He ran both hands across his face, then shook his head with a sigh. "All right. Let's give it a try." He shrugged. "If I don't help, you'll just go and escape on your own anyway."

She squinted at him. "I would not."

"Sure you would." Dean wrapped his arms around her. "I'd wake up one morning and find a 'Goodbye and good luck' note or something." He chuckled again.

Emma narrowed her eyes while pulling him closer. "Don't even joke about things like that." She held Dean in another embrace. "There's no way I'm ever leaving this island without you."

* * *

After carrying the logs down to the beach, Dean and Emma got a good night's rest. The next morning, they began their work.

Emma's hair was pulled into a loose ponytail. She sat across from Dean while tying a knot. "I keep thinking, 'If only we'd found these sooner,' you know?"

Dean nodded while examining his progress.

She sighed. "Instead, we wasted three years of our lives here." Emma immediately regretted her choice of words. She closed her eyes for a moment, then looked over at Dean. "Hey. You know what I meant by that, right? I wasn't saying that living here with _you_ was a waste, I just wish that we could've built this relationship back in the city."

"I know what you meant." He offered her a calm smile.

Emma grinned back, watching him to ensure that everything was all right. Then she lowered her gaze back to the ropes.

* * *

Dean and Emma couldn't help but laugh at their creation.

Several of the logs were longer than others, and the ropes were a jumble of awkward knots. It wasn't the prettiest raft in the world, but it did what it was meant to do: it floated.

A wave of awe crossed Emma's face. "I'd given up. I honestly thought that we'd never leave."

Dean smiled while rubbing the back of his head. "I thought that too." The moment was almost surreal for him. He couldn't help but feel a little conflicted, but he was more excited than anything else. He reached out and held Emma's hand.

Emma looked over her shoulder. "I want to visit my favorite places one last time," she said, hoping that it really would be her last time doing so.

* * *

After gathering as much food as they could fit on the raft, Emma and Dean were all set to depart. They watched their vehicle bob by the shore, then paused before turning themselves around.

A breeze ruffled their hair as they stood side by side, quietly watching the place before them.

Dean looked about, eyeing the island with affection. "I know that things haven't always been easy, but I'll never regret the fact that we came here, Em. If we hadn't, I might have never gotten to know you."

Emma quivered a little at the thought of that. She frowned while flashing an awkward smile. "I can't even imagine not having you in my life."

Dean and Emma drew each other close, sharing a deep kiss as a burst of water rose behind them.

* * *

Nearly an hour into their voyage, Emma noticed the latest in a series of waves. "Incoming," she said, bracing herself.

The force rocked the raft, picking it up and throwing it down with a violent shake.

Emma took a deep breath, letting it out through her nose. Her nervous eyes glanced back and forth.

Upon noticing her tension, Dean grinned at Emma and tried to lighten the mood. "What do you think our official status is?" He shrugged. "I mean, how does the government handle things when someone comes back from the 'dead?' "

Emma looked a little curious herself. "I'm not too sure at this point." Her thoughts began wandering elsewhere. "Do you think the world's gone through any big changes?"

"Probably. Without us, I imagine that they're barely keeping everything together."

Emma giggled, staring at him in silence.

"What?" he asked.

"You're going to be a great addition to the Robinson family. Some of my relatives are going to love you." She glanced elsewhere. "But in all seriousness, I was talking about innovations. I wonder if there are any big advancements now."

He smiled. "What, like _The Jetsons _or something?"

Emma rolled her eyes.

"I think- -" Dean paused, then pointed outward. "Whoa. Incoming."

Another powerful wave hit the raft, nearly knocking them overboard this time.

A slow frown crossed Emma's face. "They're starting to come in harder now."

Dean licked his lips, then reached out and touched her hand. "We're going to be all right."

Emma wasn't quite sure what to believe. Dean always said that when he was trying to comfort her.

"Hey." Dean flashed an excited grin. "What are you looking forward to doing most? I can't wait to play the new _Madden _video games."

Emma glanced around, eyeing the water with caution. "From what I hear, if you've played one, you've basically played them all."

Dean flinched in surprise. "You know video games?"

She smiled a little. "Not really, but my sister does. I- -" Another wave shook their vessel — taking one of the logs with it. As a number of ropes came undone, the raft began steadily breaking apart. Emma trembled, eyeing Dean in shock. Seconds later, both were scrambling to hold their craft together.

Fish and fruit drifted across the water. More logs began scattering about.

After several minutes of failed efforts and retied knots, only about half of the raft was left intact.

Emma briefly closed her eyes. Her face became solemn as reality sunk in. "We've got to turn back around."

A rumble of thunder filled the sky, and a slow downpour began hitting the sea. Amidst a slew of rain and a series of waves, Dean and Emma paddled as hard as they could.

Around 20 minutes into their effort, Emma's eyes had become less timid, and more determined. "Come on," she said. "We're getting there."

Dean could see the island off in the distance. He took a deep breath, then paddled on.

"Keep swinging, Dean," she said, wiping the rain out of her face. "We're not losing each other. We're going to make it."

Nearly 10 minutes later, the raft's remains finally broke apart. Dean and Emma splashed into the water, and both began swimming with all their might.

"Keep going, Em," Dean said with a choke.

Emma caught her breath and cleared her throat, swinging her arms about with abandon.

The waves pushed them forward. The rain pelted their heads.

And finally, after the swim of their lives, Emma and Dean washed up on shore — the very same one that they'd first arrived on.

As they collapsed on the sand and looked up at the sky, the two reached out and held each other's hands.

* * *

Hours later, Dean and Emma were laying naked together, staring over at a distant fire.

"I don't think we can take a chance like that again," he said.

Emma held utterly quiet.

Dean frowned, then sighed a little. "Sorry, Em. I know how much you wanted to leave. I did too."

Emma shook her head. "Leaving is the last thing on my mind." She stroked Dean's hand. "I'm just glad that you're okay. I'm glad that we both are."

He placed a kiss on her head.

"It's hard to describe," she continued. "It's like a part of me still wishes that we'd left — but at the same time, I don't hate being here." Emma looked around. "After what we just went through, this place feels so familiar and safe right now."

Dean agreed while looking about himself.

"It feels like we've been welcomed home." She chuckled under her breath. "Maybe not the one that we had in mind, but still a nice one nonetheless."


End file.
